Insert Title Here
by Silveni
Summary: Sorry about the title. This is Robinton, and his harperyness, and him feeling kinda sad. It's a bit drabblelike, but I wanted put down that he might not always be cheerful and winedrinking. Everybody's sad sometimes. I do bad summaries.


_This is at Benden Weyr, while Lessa and F'lar are Weyrleaders, but before Menolly. That's like a five year window. Read on:_

The music played and the Weyr danced with golden candlelight at the Hatching. Gitars thrummed and drums beat as the dragonfolk sang and drank in celebration. It was a good night. It had been a good day. The elite of Pern were all at Benden Weyr.

F'lar and Lessa proudly sat together, looking austere and dignified, but occasionally stealing affectionate glances at one another. F'nor was drinking with his wingmates, all of them tunelessly singing a song, as loud as possible. The aloof Lord Holders sat with their bejeweled wives, disapprovingly watching their less-than-aloof children dance and flirt with each other. Sound reverberated cheerfully against the stone walls, everything was jubilant.

And the MasterHarper was alone.

Well, not alone, persay, he did have wine, but even good Benden wine didn't always do it for a lonely man.

Robinton sighed and against his usual tradition, pushed his half full wine mug away. He sat back, discontentedly, and pushed his chair from the table with a soft scrape, slumping down in it as he went. There was no-one else at his table.

Even though his mood was lower than – lots of really low stuff – he decided to dance. He shut his eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over him, the reverance beginning a feeling that he'd known since he was born. He secured a partner, and began dancing with her. Clapping and spinning in time with the lively tune, he studied the people around him.

They were all happy. As well they should be. It was an Impression day. His partner was a young, black-haired woman who had dancing eyes, and a good sense of rhythm. He smiled softly as the song ended, but it soon slipped from his face as the ending chords died away, the feeling of the music leaving his heart. He felt like he'd missed an opportunity. But what was it?

He bowed to his partner, and politely said something that would excuse himself from dancing again, enjoyable as it was, his mood wanted his actions to reflect what it was feeling.

Which was kind of depressed.

His table was still empty. The journeymen were all dancing and playing at once, and everyone else was doing something that didn't involve them sitting at his table. They were delighting in the spectacle. He had come for duty's sake, and he had come alone.

Perhaps he shouldn't leave alone. There were plenty of people about for the Hatching, and even dragonladies and noblewomen would have him. But he couldn't. He hadn't, not since Silvina, and he wouldn't because of Kaisa. It just wasn't his way.

He smiled weakly. There wasn't enough sometimes. Everybody needed something. He helped them stop needing things, and they never assumed that he needed as well. But that wasn't their faults, they couldn't see past the imperviousness of the MasterHarper.

Robinton reached for the glass of wine again. He didn't want the drink so much as he desired oblivion. Not being able to remember that one was alone was almost as good as actually being with someone else.

The wry smile still on his face, the Harper downed the last of his wine, his blue eyes (A/N are they blue?) closing in relief and his brown hair tipping back from his face. He straightened it again by pulling his hand through his hair, which did more harm than good.

When Robinton had finished that glass, he went to find a 'rider who wasn't too drunk to take him back the Hall.

He'd be depressed for awhile, needing something he didn't have, then pound it all into the music he'd been writing for years. Music that reflected the times, the people, the events, and occasionally, music that reflected himself.

At the moment he felt like writing that heartbreaking music that made people cry just to remember it the sound of it playing in their minds. So full of emotion that it overflowed into the people who played, and even to those who listened to it.

Because that's how he felt inside. Because that's what he needed people to know.

--

Back at the Harper Hall, Master Robinton sat at the desk in his cluttered study, and closed his eyes once again, remembering every note that he needed to write his music. He began notation, starting softly, with pianissimo and by each verse getting louder and more familiar.

At the fourth verse of this tune, he stopped. There wasn't any more to write, but it wasn't done. He wasn't finished yet. Stopping to read what he'd written of the music, the Harper played his tune.

It had the happy simplicity of childhood, tempered with sadness of disappointment, and overlaid by cheerfulness of spirit. The notes spiraled in jubilation and began a journey, becoming fuller and louder and richer. It was a full grown song. Dissenting chords built up until they crescendoed into a conflict and moved into heartbreak, doubled in verse and finally grew back into happiness. The chorus came again, changed key and matured. The unfinished song was a journey.

He'd written himself. He wasn't finished, neither was the song. But the MasterHarper liked what he'd done so far. He liked the feel of what could come next. Life was everything. Good and bad.

_Nothing really happened, but I have an odd desire to write of Robinton. I'll do something where stuff actually happens later. Review me please, since there are like six stories in this category. _

_If you could give me a better title, that would be awesome._

_Silveni Jinx _


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